


People Names

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Rambling Wrecks [18]
Category: Glee
Genre: Dogs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 02:19:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rainbow Paws Animal Rescue & Adoption knows an easy mark when they see one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	People Names

**Saturday, April 15th, 2023: Midtown Place/Midtown Promenade, Atlanta — Casey**

Casey cuts up from Ponce through the Midtown Place parking lot on his bike, passing by the Whole Foods and the Staples before he sees the crates and pens set up around a table outside the PetSmart. He slows his bicycle and hops off, walking it along the edge of the parking lot to see what’s going on. 

The sign hanging on the table says “Rainbow Paws Animal Rescue & Adoption” in brightly-colored letters, with rainbow paw prints and little cartoon pictures of cats and dogs, just in case the name of the group and the crates and pens containing _actual_ cats and dogs didn’t make it clear enough. The cats are in two large cages near Casey, so he pokes a finger in between the bars and pets the noses of the three kittens that come up to check him out. After the kittens get bored, Casey walks around and looks in the crates and pens. Most of the dogs are bigger, lab mixes and things like that, but one of the crates has two tiny little dogs inside. 

“Are they puppies?” Casey asks the older woman with a rainbow paw print sticker declaring her a volunteer.

“No, they’re full-grown miniature pinschers,” the woman explains. “The chocolate and tan mix is two, the red one’s three.” 

The red colored dog sticks its nose and paw through the crate and whines, and Casey pets it. “They’re really sweet,” Casey says. “Did somebody give them away?”

“Their previous owner passed away from a long-term illness,” the woman says. “Rainbow Paws takes in a lot of pets for owners with health problems, who don’t want their pets sent to the pound in the event of the owner’s death.”

“That’s so sad.” Casey pets the red dog again, kneeling down to get more of his hand inside the crate. The brown dog comes up and sniffs his hand, then licks it. 

“You’d think somebody would want to take them, but nobody wants both of them, and we promised the owner we’d rehome them together if at all possible,” the woman says, kneeling down next to Casey. “Their names are Terry and Isaac.”

“They have people names!” Casey says, thrilled. “That’s so cute. They’re so _cute_.”

“Do you have any pets?” the woman asks him.

“No, we’ve only been in the house since last fall,” Casey explains. “We’d been in apartments before that, so no pets. I’d been thinking maybe a cat, but David isn’t really a cat person.”

“David’s your husband?” 

“Yes, and he’s more of a dog person,” Casey says.

“Any children?” The expression on the woman’s face shifts, her look of polite interest becoming more genuine. 

Casey shakes his head. Definitely no children.

“So you’ve been thinking about adopting a pet, then?” the woman asks. 

“I’ve always wanted a pet, and now we’ve got a place for one, so I was thinking maybe sometime in the near future,” Casey says, realizing as soon as it comes out of his mouth that he’s actually in the middle of a sales pitch—or an adoption pitch, anyway—and that if he doesn’t get out of there soon, he might be bringing home two dogs. “But I came to do my grocery shopping,” he tries to explain, giving the red dog a final pat before rising to his feet. “I should probably go do that.”

“We’ll be here until four, if you wanted to stop back by when you’re done,” the woman says. “I’m sure they’ll still be here. Nobody else has really expressed any interest in them. Just you.”

Casey looks back at the little dogs, feeling guilty and sad for those two poor tiny dogs with their dead owner and nobody wanting them. “Maybe,” Casey says. “Maybe I could come back by.”

“That would be wonderful,” the volunteer woman says. “I’m Sheila. If I’m not here when you come back by, you can talk to Levi, Michael, or Jolie. Any of them could help you with the paperwork if you want to take the boys home with you. They’d be a wonderful addition to your family!”

“Maybe,” Casey repeats, climbing back onto his bicycle. “Thanks!” 

Sheila the volunteer waves after him as he rides away through the parking lot. He thinks about the dogs on the rest of the ride to the Trader Joe’s, and while he’s doing his shopping, and while he’s loading his groceries into his bicycle’s panniers. On his way back towards Ponce, he rides past the adoption booth again, then circles at the end of the parking back and passes it _again_ , more slowly this time. On the third pass by, a young man with waist-length dreadlocks and a tie-dye T-shirt waves at him. Casey waves back and brings his bike to a stop.

“You’re the one who was looking at Terry and Isaac,” the young man says. “Sheila said you’d be back by.”

“I told her maybe,” Casey insists.

“She thought it was a definitely-maybe,” the young man says, shrugging. “Did you want to start filling out the paperwork? Sheila said they really liked you, Terry especially. He’s usually kind of standoffish, so that was a good sign.”

“Are you Michael or Levi?” Casey asks. “Sheila said I could talk to Levi or Michael or Jolie if she wasn’t here.”

“Levi,” Levi says. “C’mon, I’ll get them out of the crate for you. You can walk them on the leash.”

Casey should probably continue biking home, put the groceries away, and have a nice long conversation with David before he acquires any new pet, but the dogs are _right there_ , and they’re so tiny and cute, and nobody wants them. He looks over at the crate wistfully. 

“Okay, for just a minute,” Casey says. He feels resigned to his fate as a new owner of tiny dogs. It’s an accurate feeling, too, because the moment that Levi gets the dogs out of their crate, Casey knows he’s bringing them home with him. A six-page packet of information, a small bag of dog food, and two leashes later, Casey is the proud adopter of two miniature pinschers. 

Of course, he rode his bicycle from home to the store, so that presents a complicating factor in getting the dogs back. First, Casey tries holding onto their leashes while slowly pedaling, but even at a slow speed, their tiny legs can’t keep up. Next, Casey attempts to hold the leashes while walking the bicycle; Isaac, the little brown dog, gets too excited and keeps weaving in and out of Casey’s feet, almost sending Casey, dogs, and bicycle crashing to the ground. Finally, Casey just empties his backpack out as much as he can into the bike’s panniers, and puts the dogs into the backpack. He zips it only partially closed, and they poke their little heads out the opening, looking perfectly content. He puts the backpack back on, gets onto his bicycle, and rides home. Hopefully he’ll figure out between here and there exactly what to say to David. 

 

**Saturday, April 15th, 2023: Candler Park, Atlanta — Dave**

Dave takes the trowels and watering can over to the spigot to wash them off, then dries them with his garden towel before putting them away. The soil is warm, a nice change from winter maintenance, and he stops to sit down on one of the patio chairs and drink from his water bottle. He hears Casey’s bike approaching, and nods a little to himself, because it was starting to be a very long trip to Trader Joe’s. He hears Casey go into the house to put away the groceries, and then he hears the door open. 

“Hey, Case,” Dave says without turning around.

“Hi, David. How’s the garden?”

“Warm. Just put everything away,” Dave replies. 

“Oh, that’s good,” Casey says, walking out of the kitchen and onto the patio. “I got a jar of that curry stuff you like.”

Dave nods, then frowns at a strange noise. “What is that?” he asks. “Refrigerator acting up or something?”

“Hmm?” Casey says, too casually.

“Casey,” Dave says, and he turns around to look at Casey before he stops. “Casey. What— what are those?”

“Oh. Um. Those dogs?” Casey asks. “Was that what you meant?”

“Are those _chihuahuas_?” Dave says incredulously. “Why are there little chihuahuas here?”

“They aren’t chihuahuas, David,” Casey say, sounding mildly appalled. “They’re miniature pinschers! Or you can call them mini pins. That’s what people call them.”

“Huh.” Dave frowns again, because he’s pretty sure Casey did not have that piece of knowledge before Trader Joe’s. “And is this a new program of Trader Joe’s? Borrow a… miniature pinscher or two?”

“Well…” Casey begins, looking around the yard in any direction but at David. “Not exactly?”

“Casey. Are they… staying here?”

“I think they kind of have to, David,” Casey says. “Since, um. They’re kind of maybe a little bit, um… ours.”

“I don’t remember owning a dog, much less two, Case.”

“Um. Surprise?”

“They’re puppies, right? So we’ll have to train them as they get bigger?” Dave asks, trying to figure out the time investment. Once they get bigger and walk on leashes, it could be fun to take them for a run.

“No, they’re grown. This is as big as they get,” Casey explains. “And I think they’re already trained, look! Terry, Isaac, _sit_ ,” he tells the dogs, who do in fact sit.

“They’re full grown,” Dave repeats, shaking his head. “Case, I’m going to kill them. They’re tiny. They’ll be sitting somewhere, and I won’t even see them, and I’ll sit down and suffocate them accidentally.”

“Oh hush, David, you will not,” Casey says, scowling. “They make noise. They can move out of the way. And they aren’t as small as all that, really. Look at them. They’re so _cute_!”

“They’re pretty small,” Dave says weakly, noting Casey didn’t actually dispute Dave’s ability to suffocate the tiny things. Maybe they’re not really as small as they seem. “Why are they Terry and Isaac?”

“They came with those names!” Casey says, smiling widely. “Isn’t it funny? They have _people_ names, David!”

“I take it we’re not supposed to rename them?”

“It might confuse them. They already know their names and they’ve already had to lose their homes, so it just seems mean to take away their names, too.”

“Why’d they lose their homes?” Dave asks, frowning.

“Their owner died,” Casey says sadly. “And then nobody wanted to take them. They were sad and all alone and nobody wanted to take them, David. I _had_ to bring them home.”

Dave wonders what, exactly, Casey was told, but he just nods slowly. “Well. They’re, uh. Well-trained at least.”

“And they can ride in my backpack!” Casey says, bouncing on his toes slightly. “They rode in there the whole way back from the store!”

“I think I’ll just take ’em for walks. They have their leashes?” 

“Yes. One is red, one is blue. They’re in the kitchen with their food.”

“They can use whichever one, though, right?” Dave asks. “Red or blue, I mean?”

“I don’t think they care,” Casey says, “since I don’t think dogs see in color.”

“I mean, it’s not like one’s retractable and the other isn’t, or anything?” 

“No, they’re just leashes. Same kind in two different colors.”

“Okay, good,” Dave says, nodding. “Well.” He looks down at the dogs. “Hi?”

“So… they can stay, right?” Casey asks. “I don’t have to take them back?”

“Huh?” Dave looks up from where Terry is licking his hand. “Why would you have to do that? They’re not sick, are they?” 

“No! They’re fine!” Casey says quickly. “Just, if you didn’t like them and you didn’t want them to stay, then— ohhh, David, _look_! Terry likes you. Levi with Rainbow Paws said Terry was standoffish, so it’s good that he likes you!”

Dave laughs. “Maybe he just likes the taste of dirt.”

“Can we drive back over to the PetSmart later?” Casey asks. “They need some more things, but I couldn’t fit them all on my bike.”

“Yeah, we should get ’em a bed and some toys,” Dave agrees. “Maybe a harness for walks.”

“Oh. I thought they’d just sleep with us,” Casey says.

“Well, yeah, we can put the bed in the bedroom,” Dave starts to say, then stops and shakes his head. “No, Case, remember? Suffocation!”

“You wouldn’t suffocate them,” Casey insists. 

“We could get a raised bed, maybe,” Dave offers. “So they wouldn’t be all the way on the floor.”

“Well, we can see what they have at the store,” Casey concedes. “We’ll bring Terry and Isaac with us to see what they like best!”

Dave nods slowly as a thought occurs to him. “Guess we’d better add car harnesses to that list.”

Casey also nods. “Yes, we should. It’s good it’s not cold yet, too, or we might have to buy those little sweaters.”

“No, Case, we don’t need to have dogs that wear sweaters. They have fur.”

“Of course they don’t need sweaters,” Casey says. “Obviously. It’s _April_.”

“In general. They don’t need sweaters,” Dave protests. 

“We don’t have to worry about that until it gets cold,” Casey says, clearly deferring the conversation until after he's found at least two sweaters for each of them. “Oh! We should get one of those bags that’s specifically for carrying dogs. So they don’t pee in my backpack.”

“Uh. I’m not going to carry them,” Dave says. “That’s what leashes and their legs are for. Unless we need a carrier to take them to the vet.” 

“They have very short legs,” Casey points out. “And it’s hard to walk them on the leash if I’m on my bike.” He sighs. “I guess I could just take my chances with the backpack.”

“Didn’t say anything about you,” Dave points out. “Just letting you know I’m not going to use it.”

“Aren’t they so cute?” Casey says. He kneels down and both dogs jump around him excitedly. “Yes you are! You are both so cute!” he says to the dogs in his high-pitched baby animal voice. 

Dave shakes his head, smiling at Casey. “I just hope they don’t dig up the garden.”


End file.
